


Runnin'

by evieeden



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Captain America: The First Avenger, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 22:52:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8942740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evieeden/pseuds/evieeden
Summary: Bucky didn't know what to do with the warm feeling he got around Steve.





	

**Author's Note:**

> And here's my latest offering for you all - another Bucky/Steve number. This was kind of longer than I expected so I'm going to write half today and then half for the '12th'. This one can stand alone in any case, so I hope you like it and thanks so much for reading.

The first time Bucky realised he had feelings for Steve was when he was sixteen and Steve was fifteen.

His hormones were racing and he had just fooled around with Susan Carstairs, the butcher’s daughter. She had left with him with a kiss that smeared lipstick across his top lip and giggle and wink that promised more later. He had cast her what he thought was a rather rakish grin and then made his escape before her father could catch him.

He had clattered up the creaking stairs to the Rogers’ tiny apartment and burst in, all bravado and adolescent triumph.

“Stevie-boy, I’m in love.”

“Bucky!” Steve scrambled up from where he was lying on his stomach in the sunlight sketching and crossed his thin arms uncomfortably over his concave chest. “You really need to learn to knock.”

Temporarily blinded by the light when he entered, Bucky had failed to notice that his friend was only half-dressed in his underwear, given the heat of the afternoon.

“Come on, pal. We’re all fellas here, it’s not a big deal.”

Steve scowled at him. “Yeah, for you maybe.”

Bucky shrugged unrepentantly and closed the door while Steve grabbed for a pair of pants hanging over the dryer in front of the fire.

He threw himself onto the rug next to Steve’s sketchbook and crossed his hands behind his head.

“For you too. There’s nothing wrong with the way you look.”

The frown on Steve’s face sunk deeper. “Yeah, well, you and my Ma are the only ones who think so.”

Bucky blinked up at his best friend as Steve finished buttoning his pants and reached out for a shirt to drag on.

Steve’s body was… slight. That was the only way he could think of to describe it. You could clearly see the definition of his ribs and collarbones as his skin stretched over them and yet…

He knew Steve hated when people saw him and thought of his as being delicate, but that wasn’t the point.

Steve was fragile, yes – precious, his brain interjected – but what he saw, that others constantly failed to, was the underlying core of steel that he had. His strong jaw, the deep voice and the way that the light shone him, like it was in that moment, that surrounded his blonde hair and made him look like an angel.

A warm feeling started spreading through Bucky’s stomach and gathered at his groin as he stared at Steve. To his dumbfounded horror, he realised that it was the same feeling he had got when kissing Susan.

He jackknifed up off the floor and ignored Steve’s confused expression.

“Come on, punk. Let’s go out.”

Steve looked confused but nodded his head. “Can I bring my sketchbook?”

Bucky grinned. “Sure. We’ll head for the park and spot a dame for you to practice your life drawing skills on.”

“Bucky…” Steve rolled his eyes, but pushed his feet into his shoes and followed him out into the hole.

Bucky ignored the tinge of pleasure he got from Steve’s agreement and led him out onto the street.

………..

The second time Bucky realised he had feelings for Steve was two days before he got his orders.

He was back on leave after training and sulking when he discovered that Steve had attempted to forge his enlistment papers to gain acceptance to the army.

Steve, in a fit of contrition had volunteered to come dancing with him, something Bucky knew he wouldn’t do unless he was trying to make up for it. Bucky didn’t understand the appeal of it himself. He had only signed up because he didn’t want Steve going to war by himself. It was practically ingrained in him to protect the other man. And now he would be going to war and Steve wouldn’t.

A part of him was pleased about it. It seemed right somehow, that he should fight in Steve’s place while his friend stayed safe at home.

Steve didn’t feel the same way though, hence the dancing.

Bucky tried to forget about the war, about going to fight, about what Steve would do if he left him behind.

The prospect of fighting, of facing down other men with guns and killing them, terrified him. But he had other concerns, like whether Steve would have enough money for medicine when winter came and the inevitable bout of pneumonia hit. War would keep him away, keep him from helping. All he would be able to do was keep sending his monthly pay check back and hope it would be enough to keep Steve out of trouble.

Not that his friend saw it like that.

But Steve was all he had outside his family, the only, and best, friend that Bucky could count on. He loved him. Three whiskeys in and he could admit that to himself.

It wasn’t the girls that mattered, or the war, or anything else really. It was just Steve. Just Steve.

Steve who couldn’t work out how great he was and the stupid people around him who also couldn’t see it.

They were all idiots. All idiots.

Bucky thought he should tell Steve that.

“Steve. Steve.” He stumbled as he crossed the dance hall to where Steve was sitting hunched in on himself. Maybe he had had more than three whiskeys. He was sure there had been a shot or two in there. “Steve you’re great.”

Steve laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. “You are too, pal.”

“No!” Bucky wouldn’t let him just brush it off. “You’re great. Like, _really_ great.”

“And you’re really drunk.” Steve heaved himself up and grabbed Bucky’s elbow. “Come on, let’s get out of here before you can’t walk. I can’t carry you.”

Bucky allowed himself to be led out and slung his arm around Steve’s shoulders, leaning heavily on the smaller man as they walked, allowing himself to enjoy the feeling of Steve, enjoy being with Steve. That strange warmth in his stomach was back and though a part of him hated having that reactions towards his best friend, another part of him loved…

Just loved.

“You’re just so great though,” he carried on arguing. “Like, you help look after me and we’re a team and everything.”

Steve scoffed. “I’m fairly certain I’m the one who needs looking after.”

“No. Well yes, but I don’t mind. ‘Cos I’m with you always and you’re with me. That’s just the way we are, but I’m glad you’re here with me and I’m glad you’re not going away.”

Steve scowled and tried to pull away, but Bucky just tugged him closer.

“No, I am. ‘Cos I’m leavin’, but when I come back you’ll be here and that’s a good thing.”

“Is it?” Steve’s words were clipped. Bucky was oblivious.

“Of course it is.” He paused to drag Steve over to him and pressed a hard kiss to his temple. “You an’ me…”

“…and one of your dames,” Steve interjected.

“No!” Bucky was very firm on the matter. “Just us against the world.”

The world that was glittering and shiny and whirling around. Bucky felt on top of the world in that moment. He was brave; he was fearless; he loved Steve and the swirling feeling he gave him in the pit of his stomach and he wanted to tell him.

“Steve…”

His friend ignored him in favour of dragging him across the neighbourhood.

“Steve!”

He stopped, forcing Steve to stop for him.

“Steve, I love you!”

Steve tensed underneath him. “You’re drunk,” he said quietly.

“No,” Bucky denied, then thought about it. “Well, yes. But it’s still true. I love you.”

He pulled on Steve until the other man was facing him and then bent down to kiss him. There was an awkward pause, as if time had stopped and then Steve kissed him back. Bucky took a chance and raised a hand to cup Steve’s jaw as their lips moved together.

His touch seemed to shock Steve who jerked back and looked around nervously, even though it was late and no-one was around.

“You’re drunk, Buck. Let’s go home.”

“Okay.” Bucky smiled amiably.

He was going home with Steve. He loved Steve. He had kissed Steve and Steve had kissed him back. Sure, it was illegal and if they were caught they’d be in for a world of trouble and hurt, but for now he was flying.

His euphoria disappeared the next morning when he woke up and Steve wouldn’t look him in the eye. So he pretended he didn’t remember anything about the night before and arranged a date with Connie from the market for that night.

Steve clearly wasn’t interested, so he pushed that warm feeling down and pretended it had never existed in the first place.

……………….

Steve came to rescue him.

Bucky didn’t know how long he’d been there at Azzano, long enough to forget everything except how to endlessly repeat his rank, name and army registration number. Not that they asked him for it.

Not that they asked him anything.

It made him feel better though in some small way, made him feel like he was resisting when they were cutting into him, shoving electrical charges through his brain and injecting him with strange coloured substances that felt like fire was burning through his veins, setting everything alight.

But then Steve was there, shining like an angel above him.

He was different than Bucky remembered – bigger, taller – but he still shone in Bucky’s eyes and all he could do was gasp out his name in pure relief.

The warm feeling was back and all Bucky could do was cling to Steve as he led him to safety out of the facility where he had been held.

He was different, but the same, still the same in so many ways.

He walked by Bucky’s side all the way out of that hell hole back to the camp and the whole time, Bucky felt like he couldn’t take his eyes off of him.

This was Steve. Different, but still Steve. And he had risked everything, risked himself to come for Bucky.

And he loved him so much.

Any other slight inclination he’d had towards others paled in insignificance next to the depth of his feelings for the man he called his best friend.

Life was too short, Bucky decided. He would have to tell him. There was no risk – Steve would never report him or anything – just the risk that he would be rejected, but that was a chance Bucky was willing to take. This was a man who would die for him. This was a man he would die for.

The warmth in his stomach felt like it had spread to his heart, to his throat, so he couldn’t breathe without choking on his emotions.

He stumbled as they crested the hill and Steve reached out a hand to steady him. Bucky offered him a dumb smile in thanks and Steve grinned back.

They marched back into the camp side by side, together – always together – and Bucky steeled himself for the moment when they would be alone so he could speak to him.

Then a woman peeled off from the rest of the soldiers surrounding them, a tall woman – no wilting flower – with dark hair and red lips. A woman who smiled at Steve like she saw his worth in a way that no-one but Bucky had before, a woman who Steve smiled back at.

The warm feeling shrivelled up inside Bucky.

He didn’t even have to say anything, didn’t have to wait for the rejection.

He loved Steve. Steve didn’t love him back.

………………..

He pushed his feelings aside.

He followed Steve all over Europe, tearing Hydra apart and making them regret the day they ever tangled with ‘Captain America’.

All the time he ignored the way the warm feeling had been replaced by a hollow pit that sat heavily inside him.

Then he fell and any warmth left in him was replaced by cold.

Then replaced by nothing.

Except the memory that he loved…


End file.
